I also came across the video doing rounds on social media where a little girl is seen frustrated and upset and crying while her mother tries to teach her
I read the comments across different channels and saw people’s reaction. Some made me laugh, others made me bang my head, some made me want to bang other’s heads.
Perhaps it was just a reflection of our selves. A mere reflection; as a person, as a woman, as a mother. Just that some times we do not want to face our self. Perhaps the picture is not so great to look at.
With all honesty, it also gave me a chance to stop and reflect on myself, within. Where do I stand as a mother?
I wanted to just talk about the emotions in that short clip of few seconds.
First and foremost, our children are no more children for us, just circus monkeys. They smile, we pull out our ‘smart’ phones, they cry we start recording, they run to us to show us what they built, we choreograph the excitement, they tell us the neighbour’s kid hit them, we look for the perfect frame to match the emotion. We are slowly and gradually training our brain to just look at every thing, every person, every emotion and every aspect of our life through that small hole. We are teaching our minds to forget the fine art of remembering people without any picture. We are producing little actors who know what kind of performance will get them more likes and more comments.
We are also teaching them how vulnerable their emotions are. That we can record anything they do, say or want and put it for the whole world to watch and comment. Privacy is a thing of old times. My times. Guess I am too old now too. *Chuckles*
The rest are all details. I can write pages upon pages on the anxiety and distress that that child must be going through every day or about the mother who in that entire clip of about a minute and few seconds, did not try to console the child or show any affection or about the uncles of the child who later showed up to provide the background on why the child was treated the way she was and that how is that so justified.
But I would just stop right here, and imagine that 3 year old Haya, after about 15 years, a critical stage in her life, when she might see this video some where, and read the comments and then who knows.
I do not want my children to grow up and watch themselves being ridiculed just to satisfy their caregiver’s entertainment nerve-Do you?
Note: I could’ve easily added the entire video clip but then the purpose of writing the above is to highlight the issue, not spread it more. Hence I only preferred an image just for a reference.
While at work today, I was busy putting my things away, when something or say someone, caught my attention.
A young girl, probably in her tween, sweaty and tired walked in with a woman who she was calling her mom. The woman had a high pitched voice and I could hear her continuously telling her daughter to stop doing what she was doing. The girl had tears flowing down her cheeks, and looked helpless. I naturally felt bad for the child and said to my self what a mean, evil mother and awwww the poor child.
In my utmost curiosity and my intent to may be help the poor child out of the weird scenario she was in, I approached them and offered help.
Well not help, help, but I offered assistance while trying to figure the situation out. As the mother spoke to me and explained to me her reason for the visit, I was all ears to the conversation between the two in between. And did I hear them well or what. As I watched them leave, I wondered how would I have reacted in such a situation.
Okay cut the crap. The mother picked the daughter up from her summer camp and had to run some errands. As the child was hungry, the mother got her some fast food from McDonalds that was on her way. Her biggest crime however was that she did not make a U turn and did not go out of her way to go to the better McDonalds who makes burgers just the way the child wants. Hence the girl, that little girl was not happy how her burger tasted and had constantly been shouting and yelling at her mother on how selfish and mean a woman she is.
Just for the heck of conversation and to help lighten up, I asked the mother about the child’s age. She responded 13, the child screamed “I am 13” and the mother replied “Yes that is what I said”. The child screamed even louder “No you said 14!!!”
And I asked my own self what time we are living in.
As a child, and I am not sure if I have ever mentioned this earlier. But as a child I used to get only 15 minutes of cartoon a day, that too if I finished my homework on time, and properly. The food was never of choice but of my mother’s. And so were the clothes. “I do not want this” and “I do not like this” were unfamiliar words. I never had the liberty to raise questions about food, clothes, friends etc. And most of all, it did not damage me or my life. It did not ruin me as many might think or say or assume. It helped me be a better, smarter person. It helped me be thankful for everything I had. It helped me love and respect my parents. It helped me value little things and moments in life. It helped me to have less and still be happy and feel content. And it helped me to never regret being raised like that!
And then the face of that girl flashed in my mind again. The sense of entitlement over a burger not good enough. A child who could not handle disappointment. A child who had to be bribed with a chocolate so she could shut up for the rest of the time while the mother spoke to me. A child who was all about me, me and me and constantly wanted more and more, completely ignoring the fact that she is disrespecting her mother, disrespecting all efforts that woman might be making to keep her little girl happy.
I want to use this opportunity and ask you: What is your stance on that? What causes this? Is this even bad or am I over reacting?
When a baby is born, there are multiple milestones that health care providers and parents look and wait for. When they start to move their head, when they start to raise their arms, when they start to roll over, when they start to crawl, when they’d develop pincer grasp.
Now this pincer grasp is what is stuck in my head for last two days. Between 8 and 12 months, babies develop a pincer grasp, which means they’ll be able to pick up smaller objects (like pieces of food) between their thumb and forefinger.
Coming back to my silly little mind, I’d been thinking about this for a while now. When number 1 asked me if she can get a hover-board for her birthday instead of roller skates, or perhaps when I see people drawing insects and worms instead of letters and words on the paper in front of me, but most recently when I went to Square One the other day and had to get a mall stroller for number 3. They used to have cute little fire-truck kind of strollers for babies, with a little plastic steering wheel to turn around and children would be busy playing with it.
Thanks to technology and modernity, since everything else has changed, so did the strollers. To surprise me, these baby strollers now come equipped with little screens to keep these little minds busy with just the swipe of a finger.
And I thought, our children have stopped walking because there are hover-boards, they are not talking because there is texting and Facebook and Class Dojo; they are not learning to write better or lets say to write at all because the homework is now online, swipe of the finger remember, and we do not focus on our babies developing pincer grasp because tablets have replaced the toys that used to help our children develop fine and gross motor skills.
Welcome to producing heaps of flesh and bones and blood that are slaves of technology. Welcome to robots who can need calculator to do 2 plus 2. Welcome to more sickness and more diseases because of physical inactivity. Welcome to socially challenged children since cyber hangouts are more lit for 12 year olds than physical meet ups. Welcome to the new age!
Let me start by a confession: I LOVE SHOPPING….. AND I HAVEN’T SHOPPED IN TWO YEARS!!!!
I love shoes, jewellery, dresses, lipsticks, lamps, glasses, dessert platters, plants. I am an impulsive shopper, which means I shop ‘just because’, not out of need. If I walk inside a store and I see something yellow, I would just pick it up and put it in my cart because I love yellow colour. I just can’t resist things I love!
But people do change (or so they think).
The first time I travelled to Pakistan after a gap of about 6 years, I had 6 allowed bags and 2 extra. One of my bags only had shoes; mine, number 1 and number 2’s.
Only a week after I landed in Karachi, I had realized it was a mistake, as for the rest of the duration of my stay, I only wore my Nike flip flop, which was not only comfortable but also the best defence against sweltering temperatures. My sister as usual had issues with me not wearing my branded, colourful heaps of jewellery and shoes, for she was afraid of me being judged (again) by family and relatives but I reminded her my name and she did get used to me wearing those flip flops with each and every, almost every outfit.
Number 1 & number 2 did get some chance to use their summer dresses well, but again accessories and shoes were only adding to their discomfort, being it their first summer in reality.
When I got back to Canada, there were couple weeks, rather months in between, where I lost track of new and old stuff. I had been preparing for this trip for months and then of course I bought and got stuff in Pakistan too. Hence at times, I would find out brand new stuff, with the labels on, buried deep inside the closet, running a size or two short for number 2, or number 1.
So it was around the beginning of 2014, when I decided I am not shopping. Yes I know it sounds weird, and unbelievable. But imagine the height of my frustration for taking such a big decision, for those who know me, know that shopping is one therapy I love and how fond I am of pretty little stuff and trinkets. BUT i decided nevertheless.
There was no deadline, no plan. I just decided I will not shop until all the current stuff in number 1 & number 2’s closet runs short and mine is all used, at least once.
What followed next were a few months of serious and severe depression, glum and binge eating. Of course this was my mind and body’s defines against this “stupid” decision I had taken.
Image courtesy: Google
I would just break the continuity here and share a funny habit. Long time ago, I developed this habit out of need. I would go to the mall, pick up all the stuff I liked, take it all to the fitting room, try it on, and then pick a handful out of those piles that I loved. It is the perfect ‘Dopamine fix‘ for me that not only helped satisfy my craving for all that colour, glitz and style but also cool it down.
Sorry… back to where I was….
For past almost two years, every time I browsed through Zara.com, I would add stuff to my shopping cart and at the end would click every item, zoom in and try to find a similar item in my closet. And every time I did find one, so I would remove that item from my basket and end up with nothing, and a reminder that I have that blue top with the bull head or that long lost turquoise flats that I had almost forgotten.
It was and is not about money, but trust me when I say it; the feeling of peace when you actually take the worn out or old stuff out of closet, when you actually find space, when you feel it organized, when you can put a new outfit together without spending money using the same stuff from the back of the closet that you did not know existed. And this is something big, this means ALOT coming out of this horse’ mouth.
I did not buy a single piece of clothing, any thing for home, any utensils, just nothing. I just kept removing the chipped plates, the ripped clothes, the clothes that kids grew out of. For their pre-loved clothes, I know this super amazing place ‘Weecycled’ where I give their clothes when they grow out of it. They are a consignment based store in Brampton, and carry pre loved clothes and toys as well as new stuff. I have been dealing with them for about 6 years now and am super happy. I know I could give the same clothes to someone in the family or friends and I did try it. Turns out they took the clothes too, and later whined and complained they were not good ‘enough’ so they threw them. Okay…. Alright…. I get it….. So I decided to divide the clothes. One portion I give to donation, the other to Weecycled, and few I keep for memories. Yeh that’s me!
And I did not break my fast, for about two years. No clothes, no shoes, nothing at all. Almost two years for number 1 & number 2 since they badly needed winter clothes for school, and more than two years for myself. I satisfied my cravings by browsing online stores, adding items to my cart, and then analyzing if where would it be used. I love dresses on my little ones, but I specifically asked myself where and how they will wear it since the snow pants make it almost impossible to wear dresses in winter so that leaves only spring/summer. It helped me great deal to put in perspective the need.
And then came this spring. I opened the closet. Clean, spacious, welcoming. It felt so good. Today was the last basket of clothes that I will be dropping off at Weecycled. After this I would need new clothes, and that still depends.
I myself am still fasting. I am using my existing wardrobe, trying to innovate and restructure my stuff in new ways every time and I must say I am loving it. I also realized how much junk I have been carrying all these years, while I only use two pair of jeans and 4 tops on a regular basis. Rest is all the impulse!
I also remember last year when I visited my favourite clothing store in Karachi, they had these new short kurtas on display and while I was checking those, one of the sales staff came to me and mentioned “You don’t need these; you bought all these last time and they have just been shortened in length but all the same”
That was some sincere and honest opinion I loved. I mean one more reason for me to stand firm on my decision. Also my sister and sister in law have been tempting me for past so many months, sending me pictures of branded replicas that would cost less than half the price of the original one. Yet, I stood firm and am still standing firm!
As for the children, trust me it don’t matter to them. As a matter of fact they loved the idea of no shopping and getting money for their clothes so they try to keep their stuff stain free so they get more coins in their coin box.
There is nothing wrong with being smart. Nothing wrong in teaching kids to be smart. Perhaps we just need to try it. And definitely if I can stay sober and sane, so can you!
